


Moonlight

by AlphaHale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Minor Character Death, Musical Instruments, POV Stiles, Piano, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:03:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaHale/pseuds/AlphaHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story of what happened after Lunar Ellipse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and English is not my primary language so I'm sorry for the mistakes

I know I should be happy. It was finally over. The Darach has been dealt with; the Alpha Pack is no more. Everything was finally back to normal. Well as normal as it gets in Beacon Hills. But this time though we barely made it. People died, sacrifices were made, and compromises were given. I don’t think we can handle something like this again.  
I feel so…empty though. Maybe this is the darkness Deaton was talking about? Who knows? *sigh* I don’t get it, this is so confusing. I feel so…lost. It’s like I’m stuck, stagnant; I’m neither going forwards nor backwards. My sense of purpose suddenly vanished. I feel like there’s something missing, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like a feeling of desolation, fear, anxiety, hopelessness, doubt, and despair all rolled into one gigantic emotion that’s slowly smothering my very existence. And even that doesn't come close to describing what I really feel. Or maybe I was just exhausted. Yeah that’s just it, I’m just tired. I’ll just chalk it up to that.

  


*****  
  
I slowed down as the house came into view. Parked my damaged jeep into the driveway and turned the engine off. I had trouble getting out of the car. My body starting to remember it was in a car accident a while ago and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, my head freaking hurts like hell! I don’t think its concussion though. A few ice packs and a bottle of painkiller should do it. Thankfully nothing was broken, just some bruising.  
I got my key out opened the door and went straight into the kitchen to get a drink and some ice. My father went straight to the station to talk to the FBI or something and maybe answer a few questions about his abduction. I don’t really care right now. I guess I was alone again. It’s not like I’m not used to it or anything, it’s just that I don’t feel like being alone right now. Not after everything that happened. Even if we don’t really talk that much at all, I would have just wanted there to be someone in the house tonight, not like this, the house just felt so empty, just like me.

Looking at the time on my phone, it was way past midnight. I better be setting up for bed ‘coz you know tomorrow’s Monday, don’t wanna be late. As I slowly trudged my way through the living room to turn off the lights, my eyes landed on my mom’s old piano. And suddenly I was taken back in the past.

  


***Flashback***

  


“I don’t know mom, I haven’t memorized all the notes yet”  
My seven year old self, declared worryingly. looking at my mom with a sincere expression.  
“Don’t worry honey, that’s what I’m here for”  
She assured me, then took my hands and gently placed them on the piano keys. I began playing her favorite song. Forgetting some parts, but she was patient, teaching me all throughout.  
I knew it was her favorite song, so I would go back every day after school and practice. But then my mother was not well enough to teach me by then. So I was more determined to play it for her, to let her hear me play her favorite song for her. Every time I would go to the hospital I’d sit by her bed and tell her about my progress. She would always grab my hand squeeze them and say “I’m so proud of you son, I know it will be great” then she would kiss my forehead and give me a hug.

  


Then one day, ‘I did it! I finally mastered it!’ I was so happy then, playing it a few more times just to make sure. Every day at four, my dad would come pick me up and we would visit my mom. So I eagerly waited for the front door to open and my dad to come and get me. As the short hand of the clock hit four and the long one was on twelfth. Nothing happened, so I thought he was just running late, ignoring the small voice telling me that he was never late. As the time dragged on slowly, I started getting really agitated. I stared at the front door willing it to finally open. It was getting dark now. And I heard the clock chime. And finally the door opened and my father stood at the door. I bolted for him.  
  
“Come on Dad! You’re late! You’re never late, mom’s waiting for us. I finally finished the song!”  
I said excitedly; as I grabbed his hand and started tugging at it wanting him to move, but he just stood there, motionless.  
“Dad? Come on, mom’s waiting.”  
“Dad?”

My father knelt down in front of me and hugged me tight. Then he broke down and started to cry.  
“Dad? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”  
“Dad?”

  


She died that day. I never got to play that song for her. Come to think of it I never played again after she died. I lost my passion for it. Maybe because I blamed myself for putting much more time practicing than being at her side, whatever the reason my seven year old self found to stop playing, never again did I want to set my eyes on it, my father eventually put a sheet on top of it after noticing me wincing every time I caught sight of it. As the years passed and I grew older it was just there, never mentioned but always present, a symbol of the past when everything was great.

  


I pulled out the bench a bit and sat on it. Running my hands through the keys, then tentatively pressing a few keys. The tone was still rich and clear after all these years of unuse. Breathing deeply, I gently placed my fingers on the keys and started the first lines to my mom’s favorite song, Debussy’s Clair de Lune and lost myself to the melodies of the song. The piano can be heard all throughout the house, replacing the silence with its beautiful tones and rhythms. As I played the last lines of the song, I felt wetness under my eyes, not realizing that I was crying the whole time I was playing. I took a moment to collect myself.

  


“M-Mom? Did you hear that? I finally played it. Are you happy?... I hope you are. That was for you mom. I’m sorry it took this long for you to hear it. But...yeah, I finally played it” I said in a barely audible voice.

**~End~**


End file.
